


a shadow in the shape of a man

by vaudelin



Series: supernatural codas [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dubcon Cuddling, Episode: s13e04 The Big Empty, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Season/Series 13, Season/Series 13 Spoilers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 16:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12634731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaudelin/pseuds/vaudelin
Summary: “Hush, Castiel,” the nothingness hums. “Just rest. Just rest.”Castiel tries to shift away. The hand in his hair holds him still.





	a shadow in the shape of a man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xylodemon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylodemon/gifts).



There is something here, wandering with him—a presence that prickles the hairs on Castiel's neck. It shifts and slithers, awake and in motion, behind him. Castiel hasn’t learned yet what it is.

The space around him is quiet and empty. No sound or light sparks here, save for the sliver he carves out around him by calling into the shapeless dark. He can see his hands, stretched out in front of him. Beneath him is a solid approximation of a floor. There is a slight curve to the ground that Castiel cannot see, can only sense by how it cants his body an ounce off-kilter, but it is not enough to stop him from walking. And walking is all he can do.

With no sense of time or accomplishment to his actions, Castiel hesitates with how to proceed. He changes directions, moving with his gut rather than his senses. Nothing changes. No progress can be reached, since no exit can be found. Castiel calls out, though the echo of his voice tells him only that this place is endless, dark and deep.

It is lonely, but comfortable.

The desire to rest burns within him, but Castiel is not yet ready to give into the call.

The nothingness behind him glides forward, creeping as a shiver up his spine. His steps turn tentative. He pauses, just for a look. Just for one moment to sense what unsettles him so.

No shape comes out from the nothingness, though a whisper builds in the back of his head.

_Why are you doing this? You’ve already done so much._

_Don’t you deserve some peace?_

The space around him is comfortable and deep. But Castiel is not done walking yet.

* * *

The second time the nothingness comes, it steps forward as a shadow in the shape of a man. The darkness hides its demeanor, the lines of its body and the curve of its face. Castiel pauses, pulling what details he can from the corner of his eye. Its voice comes not as sound but sensation, washing over him like a physical caress.

_You’ve proven your worth, Castiel. Can’t you see? They do not need you to do any more._

The voice warms him, sinking over him like a hot bath. The tension in him melts away.

_Just rest, Castiel. Just rest. You’ve earned your peace._

His knees lock, halting his stumble. He doesn’t remember falling to the ground. He doesn’t remember resting his forehead against the dark, comforting space.

Castiel shakes his head, allowing the cold comfort of the empty to leach back in.

The man in the shadows steps back, though Castiel can sense its eyes haunting him.

He stops looking behind him.

He knows it is there.

* * *

When the nothingness comes next, it wears Castiel’s own face. It comes with a smile that crinkles its eyes and bares all its teeth. Its voice is not so friendly, now.

_All this effort and you’ve done nothing._

“Let me go back,” Castiel croaks at the darkness. A pointless gesture, perhaps, but he must hold onto the desire to escape.

The nothingness contorts its approximation of his face, its expression growing ugly. “Why would you deserve to go back?”

Castiel cannot answer that, not without demeaning himself. Truth be told, nothing about him is special. He’s wrought damage to the world and hurt those people that matter to him the most. He has done more harm than good. But he is the only one here, in this space, who is awake and in motion. It has to count for something.

The nothingness grows tired of him walking, of Castiel ignoring its wheedling jabs and insults. It reforms in front of him, grabs the lapels of his coat, and thrusts a knee into his stomach so hard that the edges of Castiel’s vision spark black.

“You’re worthless, you know.” The nothingness punches him, kicks at his ribs when it's got him down. “They don’t miss you.”

Castiel spits blood from his mouth. It lands nowhere, on nothing, like it never existed; Castiel’s legacy in this place is as fruitless as on Earth. But still he says, “You don’t know that.”

The nothingness picks at its nails and kicks him again. It reaches down to cradle his throbbing head. Its smile is slippery and sweet. “Let’s fix that, shall we?”

Sharp as knives, its fingers dig into his temples.

Castiel begins to scream.

* * *

When Castiel's senses return, he sits in the nothingness’ lap. The nothingness cradles him to its chest, holding him like a child. It smooths a soothing hand through his hair, hums a susurrous wave of empty words against the crook of his neck.

Castiel stiffens on instinct. The arm around his waist tightens in turn.

“Hush, Castiel,” the nothingness hums. “Just rest. Just rest.”

Castiel tries to shift away. The hand in his hair holds him still.

The nothingness noses behind his ear. Its voice is a velvet-soft sweep against his neck. “Even if you go back, he still won’t want you.”

Dean.

“You already knew you’d never get what you wanted with him. If you leave here, you never will.”

The memory of Dean flares like fire; Castiel struggles harder.

The voice changes, as does the nothingness’ hands. The trenchcoat fades, replaced by familiar flannel. Castiel spies the silver ring now adorned on this false Dean’s hand. Those hands that palm over Castiel’s chest. “You could have what you want, here.”

The voice isn’t perfect, but it’s close. Frighteningly close.

“I could give you what you want, Castiel.”

It plants a kiss to the hollow of his throat. Though Castiel shivers, it’s not the same. Though he cants into it, it isn’t right.

“I’ll let you have him,” the nothingness promises, deep with Dean’s voice, “but only if after you go to sleep.”

Castiel tilts his head, enough to feel Dean’s lips glance along his cheek.

His mouth is warm, as plush as Castiel has often dreamed it would be. His hands are firm where they unclasp his belt.

Castiel waits, his breath held, as the nothingness kneads against him, waits until the nothingness relaxes and finally Castiel can fire out with his fist.

Dean’s face contorts, melting into the darkness. The nothingness rages so fiercely Castiel may end up dead again.

* * *

Fighting with this celestial monstrosity is pointless, but it’s all Castiel has left to do with his time.

The nothingness kicks him around like a pebble, punching and biting and breaking his bones. Castiel takes it all with impunity, knowing that at some point, this all will stop. Either he will fail to convince it to release him, or he will win. Castiel will return to a dreamless sleep or to a world with the Winchesters in it. Either result counts as a victory.

“You annoying little gnat,” the nothingness sneers, hissing a breath through its teeth.

It’s back to looking like Castiel again, howling out nasal insults as it tries to destroy him. It digs up the worst of Castiel’s memories, throws them at him with the full weight of his failures. Castiel takes his history and embraces it, all the triumphs and the glory and the bitter, endless regrets.

All of it has brought him to here, to now, to a place where nothing has ever awoken except for him.

“Send me back,” Castiel growls at it. He bides his time, awaiting the next punch.

The nothingness snarls at him, panting. Its gaze is fire and fury guttering frighteningly low.

Winded.

Defeated.

Finally, reluctantly, it concedes.

* * *

Sunlight bakes down, warming his skin. Dirt shifts beneath his fingers. Wind-bleached grass tickles the back of his neck.

Castiel stands among the flora that ebbs in a warm wind. He grabs at his new-old coat, feels his ribs for a stab wound that is no longer there. He is here, hale and whole. Earth resides beneath his feet once again.

Castiel turns his face to the sun, blinking in its bright glory.

He closes his eyes. It is enough comfort to know it is there.

Hollows live in Castiel yet, those pieces of empty that he wishes he could do without. But they are part of him, and all of him—all of it, his good deeds and regrets—have the chance to live again.

When he finds a phone, when he has the chance to call Dean and tell him how he feels, Castiel will remove the one regret that should have never gone with him to the grave.

 

**Author's Note:**

> on [tumblr](https://vaudelin.tumblr.com/post/167143286663/a-shadow-in-the-shape-of-a-man).


End file.
